“How about your name?”
The question intensified the pounding in his head. “I don’t know. Who are you, people?”
“I am Mrs. Clifford and this is Mrs. Walton,” the woman in a nurse uniform told him.
The old woman named Mrs. Walton smile widened. “You don’t remember anything at all, dear? Nothing?”
“I told you already,” he said impatiently. “I don’t understand?” The piercing pain was threatening to send him reeling again.
“That’s completely fine. You just woke up from a very terrible accident.”
“What?” He breathed. “I’m so confused right now.”
“Your name’s…Tate. Tate Walton. Can’t you remember?”
“Tate Walton?” he spoke the name hoping he would remember at least something as significant as his name. His head creased and his eyebrows furrowed.
The name didn’t ring a bell. At all.
“Don’t you remember anything at all?” Mrs. Walton asked.
“No.” He shook his head slowly. “Why can’t I remember anything? Who are you?”
Upon hearing this, a smile slowly crept across Mrs. Walton’s face, her eyes glistening with joy. “Well…” she took a deep breath before she said, “I’m your mother, Tate.” Mrs. Walton suddenly wrapped her arms around him.
“You are?”
“Welcome back, son,” she said as tears of happiness fell down her rosy cheeks.
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Here is a sample from another story you may enjoy:
Prologue
“Hey, Aaron, you imbecile creature!”
Aaron Lanter stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he heard his name and the derogatory word that came after it. He did not like it. He’s Aaron Lanter, the most popular guy in school; every girl’s dream guy and every guy’s object of jealousy. He was the Aaron of Lediville High. Who on earth would call his attention by calling him an imbecile?
The culprit was none other than Samantha Banks, who stood proudly by the countertop with her rather worried friends in the kitchen.
“What did you just call me?” Aaron asked. The party was beginning to bore him. He and his friend, Zack, decided to leave the party when they passed by the kitchen.
“Imbecile,” Sam answered coolly. “Hey, spell imbecile, I-M-B-E-C-I-L-E.”
“You’re screwed, Sam, like down the sewer kind of screwed,” a girl who looked like a gothic doll said.
Sam frowned at her. “That doesn’t even make any sense, does it? Oh, I feel warm fuzzies.”
Chloe was nodding her head between Sam and gothic girl to the rap music blasting loudly. “This is an amazing party.”
Sam had never been drunk in her entire existence. But in that gusty, Friday night, she let her best friend, Chloe, influence her decision on how she should spend her evening. If it were up to her, she would be curled up in bed, watching classic TV show reruns. In fact, it was what she had planned, but when Diana, one of Lediville High cheerleaders, announced a house party before the first period even started Monday morning, everything changed.
For days, Chloe wouldn’t let the topic rest; she begged Sam to go with her, promised her they would leave the party before midnight. And on Thursday, Sam finally gave in and agreed to go with her. Chloe victoriously manipulated Sam to join in on the fun with half of the population of Lediville High.
After a few arguments about the smell of alcohol in the entire house, Sam finally agreed to stay for four hours. It was the first party of the school year, and everyone was partying like it was their last. The place was already swamped, but surprisingly, the kitchen wasn’t so they decided to hang out in there with two other girls from one of their morning classes.
It only took three bottles of beer to turn Sam as pink as salmon and a bit deaf, to start to laugh and to talk louder than normal. When boredom slowly crept in, the girl with the shiniest red hair they called Ginger suggested that they play Truth or Dare.
“I agree. Let’s play that ‘cause this party sucks,” another drunken girl agreed. She had her nose pierced and couldn’t seem to stop playing with her pierced tongue. Her eyes were locked on a guy and a girl pinned on the walls, making out.
Chloe rolled her eyes. “Just because nobody wants to make out with you doesn’t mean the party sucks, Martha.”
Martha frowned. “Who’d want to make out with jerks?” She started to stare at the two girls standing in front of them who were surrounded by four guys.
Ginger suddenly stood up and almost spilled her beer all over Sam. “Okay, let’s entertain ourselves and play truth or dare.” She suggested again.
“This is Diana’s house. She’s a popular cheerleader. Why don’t we look around and maybe we’d find some weird stuff? Wouldn’t it be fun to discover something about one of those perfect cheerleaders at our school?” Martha said.
Chloe shook her head. “You have issues you need to fix.”
Sam got up. “Chloe, I think we should go. I’m starting to feel weird. I can’t feel my hands.”
Chloe checked her watch. “Sam, it is a quarter to ten. We agreed to leave fifteen minutes before eleven.” She offered Sam another bottle of beer while the other two had additional bottles too. After a couple more beers, Ginger proposed again that they play Truth or Dare.
And they all finally went for it. When it was Sam’s turn, she didn’t even hesitate to choose dare.
Dare. Samantha Banks chose dare, a choice she made which she would regret making for the rest of her senior year because as soon as Ginger saw Aaron and his other jock friend passed by, she was doomed.
Kiss Aaron Lanter, on the lips, with your tongue, for ten seconds — was the dare.
Chloe, Ginger, and Martha froze as Aaron walked to them.
** *
“Oh, Sam, did you really have to call him an imbecile?” Chloe muttered. She was growing nervous as few people started to gather around, waiting for what was about to happen.
“Who are you?” Aaron asked Sam. He looked really pissed.
Sam, on the other hand, was drunk and didn’t really care what was going on. “My name is Samantha Banks, your majesty, a humble servant from nowhere land.” She further ridiculed Aaron with a curtsy. “Actually, I know you know me because we had four classes together last school year. But you just pretend you don’t have a clue since you’re the so-called heartthrob, and you’re brainlessly following this preposterous social structure, where a socially well-accepted person such as yourself would and should only acknowledge other popular people’s existence. And since I am obviously neither cool nor popular, hence the ‘Who are you?’”
“Excuse me?” Aaron said.
“Is she drunk or high?” Martha whispered to Chloe.
“Let’s go, Sam. I think we drank more than enough booze for tonight,” Chloe said. She had more than five bottles; however, Sam’s alcohol tolerance was low compared to hers.
Sam had already turned red not because of the tension in the room but rather due to the effect of the fourth bottle she had. She walked over to Aaron, smiling. “Listen, my friends and I are playing truth or dare. I chose dare. Now, I have to kiss you.”
Some giggled, and some just stood there with uh-oh looks on their faces.
“Is she serious?”
“Where’s Nicole? She’s got to see this?”
“What did you just tell me?” Aaron couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Whoa, dude. Nerdy got hots for you. Respect!” Zack mocked.
“Oh, please.” Sam rolled her eyes. “Like you’ve never kissed before? It’s simple. My tongue plays with your tongue, and then we swap spit. Like this.”
And before Aaron could even express his displeasure, Samantha Banks, Lediville High’s nobody, grabbed his collar and slammed her mouth against
his before everyone’s very eyes.
“What the freak?” Ginger covered her mouth in shock.
“Could this really be happening?” Chloe thought she might faint.
“Is it the end of the world already?”
“The Illuminati is real after all,” someone cooed from the crowd.
Sam could only care less about the over the top comments from the stunned spectators because, much to her surprise, Aaron’s mouth opened as soon as their lips touched. Her tongue forcefully whirled around his mouth. And the second she felt the heat inside his mouth and the warm and sweet smell of his breath, her head started to slowly spin. Without a shroud of ambivalence, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer.
“Way to go, Sam!” Martha teased.
“Shit! Nicole’s coming.”
As soon as Chloe heard someone from the crowd mentioned Aaron’s girlfriend, she knew she had to do something. “Okay, that’s enough lip-locking.” She yanked her friend away, abruptly ending a semi-perfect example and display of how nerd girls could turn wacko when drunk. “We seriously have to go.”
“I think I’m gonna throw up.” Sam moaned.
Aaron looked down at her, speechless and in total disbelief just like the rest of the people who witnessed the shocking highlight of the party.
“What’s going on here?” The crowd parted like the Red Sea for Nicole’s arrival.
“Shit. Nothing. We’re outta here.” Chloe hurriedly grabbed Sam, dragging her out of the house and saving her from Nicole’s wrath.
Music was still blasting from the living room, and others were still busy in their own world, but in the kitchen, the atmosphere was utterly different. No one said a word.
Chapter 1
——Sam
“Samantha Banks! Get a hold of yourself, woman! I have a girlfriend!”
And as if on cue, everyone’s snooping eyes in the entire Lediville High universe were on me, awaiting my reaction as they held their breath. It wasn’t too long ago when I, Samantha Banks, heedlessly involved myself in the school’s scandal of the year with the most popular and pompous jerk, Aaron Lanter. Well, I gave the full credit to my one and only best friend, Chloe Windsor, for what really happened.
Ever since our little scandal, he had reduced me from being non-existent to a jester—Lediville High’s source of entertainment. Aaron Lanter was obnoxious and a bully, but everyone couldn’t seem to see that. They were so blinded by his ridiculously mesmerizing blue eyes, stupid blond hair and absurdly perfect smile. Unbelievably, they couldn’t see past those shallow attributes.
Today was hisanother demonstration on how to strip me an ounce of my slowly decreasing dignity—by announcing to everyone in the cafeteria that I was into him.
I wasn’t, and I would never be, but they didn’t know that. They eat on whatever he would feed them.
I woke up late this morning, and my stomach was already growling when lunch period came. And with an empty stomach and an unstable disposition, I looked down at my tray as an idea formed in my mind. I did the unthinkable without hesitation. I flung my tray at him.
Swoosh!
Bam!
Splat!
“What the f—” Aaron hollered as the sticky spaghetti and salad hit him. His blond, tousled hair was now smeared with a common shade of spaghetti sauce.
“Woah!” The students that had circled us gasped; eyes in horror and anticipation for Aaron’s retaliation. But, I wasn’t an idiot to just stand there and wait for him to do something to me. I knew what had needed to be done next—run.
“Douchebag!” I managed to yell over my shoulder as I bolted out of the cafeteria door like the great Jesse Owens.
We played this game so many times already that I could already predict Aaron’s move. I knew he would order his pathetic little helpers, Zack and Jasper, to come after me.
I dashed and sprinted to my haven—the girls’ washroom. I had realized a month ago that none of his brute sidekicks could actually touch me there. And so, it had become my place of refuge and hiding there had become so frequent too, that the last cubicle on the left had become my favorite spot.
Sitting on the toilet, catching my breath and tending my hunger, my mind brought me back to the night my world first rammed hard with Aaron’s, like how some planets smacked into each other over billions of years ago. Before the collision, I was happy and peaceful in my own orbit, until I attended Diana’s stupid party and got drunk. We played one of the most cliché games humanity invented to extract information forcefully and give the desperate an exclusive chance to exchange saliva with each other. As humiliating as it may sound, I had exchanged saliva with someone, and the worst part was that someone had to be Aaron Lanter, the most bigheaded prick in the universe.
I hated him so much that I could no longer count the terrible adjectives I used to describe him. He was that terrible of a person. I seriously think he should be awarded Bully of the Year and be pushed off the cliff as a reward for everything he did to me. But, bullies couldn’t scare me. I could manage them on my own.
But why am I in here now? Hiding?
I checked my watch. Thirty minutes had already passed. I could go and grab a sandwich on my way to my next class. When I was completely sure that the coast was free of Aaron’s sidekicks, I left my cubicle.
“Sam!” A girl caked in make-up called out to me as I turned left to the outdoor cafeteria.
It was Chloe, my best friend, and my complete opposite. While I worshiped Coldplay and U2, Chloe was overly devoted to Lady Gaga and Beyonce. While I would never let people see me with lip-gloss on, Chloe would never leave the house without being dosed up with some dark mascara, blush, and eyeshadow. My wardrobe consisted of gray, white and black shirts and jeans. She, on the other hand, had two closets full of skimpy skirts with as many colors as one could find in a packet of Skittles.
Today, Chloe was wearing a pastel pink skirt and her favorite sky blue tee. She graciously flipped her shiny blonde curls, strutting towards me.
“What’s up, Barbie?” I greeted.
She hugged me and grinned when she finally decided to release me. “You totally kicked Aaron’s ass, loser!”
I wrinkled my nose. “You heard?”
“Yes. What do you expect? Gossip 101 is everybody’s favorite subject. I wish I were there to take pictures,” she said, laughing loudly. “That handsome jerk! Who does he think he is?”
I scowled at her. “Handsome jerk, huh?”
She pinched my arm, trying to make a point. “Well, you have to admit it, Sam. Aaron is one hot piece of meat,” she said sheepishly. “Sexy blond hair. Deep blue eyes. Perfect jawline, and those kissable lips… damn!”
“I can’t believe it. You’re drooling over the enemy.” I shrugged her off.
She giggled and continued to annoy me by praising the devil all the way to the outdoor cafeteria. I awarded my bravery with a fifteen-minute meal time instead and had three ham sandwiches, an apple, a tart and a bottle of soda. I was that hungry.
I arrived at my next class just in the nick of time and had to sit in the back corner of the room. Ms. Penny’s lecture on the conflict in ideologies of communism and capitalism that became a foundational factor of the Cold War had sent half of the class into coma—except for me. I topped most of my important subjects, the ones that really mattered. Gym class, not included.
Getting good grades, for me, was a piece of cake. I fell in love with literature as soon as I read Leo Tolstoy when I was ten. I briefly flirted with Math and soon realized that I really had to love it and live it too to maintain my class standing.
The day went on as expected. My recent run-in with Aaron went viral again, like how our previous encounters did. Some cheered and some jeered. And the same jovial reaction greeted me when I came to The Tutor Club Headquarters. Some of my fellow academic tutors smiled at me while others merely stared in sheer amazement.
I didn’t care what they thought; I was there to get the name of the studen
t who needed my help and not talk about my squabble with the cretin.
I checked the row of small boxes that were attached to the announcement board. Each box was labeled with the name of the members of the club. I sighed loudly when my box was still empty.
What’s going on?
“Bruce, I think we now have a problem in the distribution of tutees.”
Bruce Carson, our club’s president, looked up at me behind his desk from the thick stack of paper.
“I don’t think so, Sam. Mira’s box has been empty for two weeks now.” He smiled, his eyes sparkling behind his black-rimmed glasses. “By the way, I heard Nicole was really pissed off. You made spaghetti art on Aaron’s shirt today. And I heard she bought him that shirt.”
I rolled my eyes. “That guy’s a moron. And Nicole is an even bigger idiot for being with him. Her boyfriend thinks he owns the school.”
“Well, when your parents are wealthy, you automatically get a free pass to be a jerk.”
“Whatever. You do know that’s an incredibly disgusting excuse to inspire injustice. He can’t take his wealth with him when he dies. And frankly speaking, he will die. He’s not immortal.” I walked to the door and sighed again. “I’ll check again tomorrow. I’m going home.”
Like the rest of the underprivileged students in my school, I owned a bicycle instead of a car, which I was pretty okay with because that was what I actually asked for my fifteenth birthday. I didn’t want a car. My mother was a very lucky woman. Her eldest daughter was low maintenance.
I turned up the volume on my headphones and listened to “Viva La Vida” and stepped on my pedal. It was a good autumn afternoon. I smiled as I breathed in the earthy smell of falling leaves while I passed by the trees already glowing in vivid hues of red and gold. I loved Lediville, Ohio, this time of the year.
As I scanned my iPod for another song favorite, a puppy in the middle of an empty road caught my eyes. I hurriedly went to its rescue and carried it to the side. I checked and saw that it was male. And as I rummaged for some leftover in my backpack, I felt someone came up from behind me and grabbed my arms. “Hey!”
Considerably Wicked: A Dark Romance Page 34
